


Comfort

by GingerSparrow



Category: Arctic Monkeys
Genre: Arctic Monkeys - Freeform, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 12:13:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10100069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerSparrow/pseuds/GingerSparrow
Summary: You were plagued with nightmares and only one person could fix that.(Based on a smut fic I read, just turned it fluffy)





	

You feel yourself stir, fear and fright plaguing your mind. Recklessly, you toss and turn in the seemingly over bearing sheets wrapped around you form, swaddling you. You were half awake, half asleep and nightmares were clawing through your mind. Strangely, you could feel yourself gasp with each moment and a sudden weight felt like it was being pressed against your chest. Like someone was sadistically standing on it.

“No…” Your murmur, slightly terror underlying in your trembling voice. Your nails subconsciously dig into the soft fabric of the bed and tears begin to collect at your eyes as you feel yourself lose all control to this nightmare.

Wild shivers dance down your body as a cool breeze dances over your body but only momentarily and you’re thrown straight back into the hot, feverish sensation.

And then you awake.

Sweat pumps down your pale skin and with your eyes clenched tightly shut, you immediately reach over to your side expecting to grab at soft warm flesh. But instead you grasp at thin air; your eyes snap open and your body lurches forward in an almost chain reaction. There was no familiar body lying there that you would’ve curled up against to calm your shaken form. Your heart race increases at the lack of him as your mind desperately seeks comfort. Swiftly, your fingers climb up to your face as you wipe a damp strand of hair from your sticky ashen skin.

With a shaky breath, you swivel yourself and get up from the comfy bed. Clinging your clammy hands together tightly, your feet pad softly against the wooden floor as you go to the kitchen. He’s probably there getting a drink, you think to yourself. But your anxiety pinching at the edge was telling you he’d left and he was never coming back. Your pace increases at the thought until you finally find yourself in the kitchen. An empty kitchen.

However, the smell of bourbon instantly travels up your nose washing a wave of calm over you. He was here. But you needed him. You needed to touch his electric skin, see his smouldering brown eyes and graze your nose against his own.

“B-Babe?” You stuttered out, hoping he’d hear your small meek voice. You were still extremely anxious after that nightmare and Alex was the only person that could fix that.

You nervously walk through the dark house, following the faint scent of alcohol and straining your ears for a response.

And then you see him. You can just about make out his faint figure in the dark, sitting on the sofa with a glass of bourbon in one hand and the other resting on his propped-up leg. In an instant, his familiar chocolate eyes meet your own and they soften with concern at the sight of you.

“(Y/N)?” He mumbles softly and reaches an arm out to you. He was shirtless but wearing his pyjama bottoms, and hair tousled gently - straight out of bed.

You say nothing and quickly walk over to him, climbing onto him and wrapping your weak arms around his shirtless figure. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and feel all forms of anxiety wash away at his warm touch. A smile adorns your face as his familiar scent wraps around you like a blanket.

Alex says nothing, just strokes your hair gently with one hand and holds your small frame close with the other almost as if you’d vanish if he even loosened his grip. He was used to your nightmares but he’d never not been around for one. This was the first. And it terrified both of you.

“I’m sorry love,” He mutters quietly, guilt tainting his honey like voice. You gaze into his eyes and see sadness lingering in them at the state you were in. Your skin was still damp with sweat, your pyjamas were sluggish, your eyes were tinted red and your skin was blotchy. He blames himself, you think to yourself.

You go to say something but he stops stroking your hair and instead gently grabs your chin and tilts your head up towards him, cutting off any thought process you just had. Without warning, he tenderly brushes his sultry lips against your own plump ones. He kisses you slowly and carefully as if you were a fragile doll and gently places a hand on the nape of your neck.

He doesn’t care about your puffy eyes, or your patchy flushed cheeks or wild array of hair.

He just cares about you.

You were his love.


End file.
